No way...him meaning my best friend.
Happy birthday to you, buddy, with all the love in the world.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Slatterday in the Park
Alright...Chicago's "25 or 6 to 4" comes on the radio. Do you change the channel? Why? Why not?
Friday, February 16, 2007
Fatnom Gourmet Presents a Gr8 8
Was reading this one by Jim Harrison last night (pretty good, not great) and thinking about how I've always wanted to read that one, which of course, or not so of course I guess, got me to thinking about books I haven't read, movies I haven't seen, things I haven't heard. Maybe you'll be pleased to give me advance warning on these before I get around to them:
1. Finnegan's Wake. Loved Dubliners, on or about the thirty-five yard line with Ulysses (scarred by Jesus manque 9th grade English teacher's fanaticism). I think maybe we were supposed to read Finnegan's for a Modern British & Irish fiction class I took in college, but I sure didn't.
2. McCabe and Mrs. Miller. The little description is enough: 'haunting, wintry Western.' Altman at the peak of his powers, I am told.
3. Duke Ellington. I mean, heard everything here and there, by osmosis I suppose. But haven't yet given him a concerted essay. Reading this biography now which, despite Nat Hentoff's nice jacket quote, actually kind of sucks so far--feels like piffle.
4. Arcade Fire. I like Canadians, I love Montreal, I think it's neat when couples form bands, a couple of friends have told me I'd really love them. I guess we'll see.
5. Ulysses S. Grant's Ripper of a Yarn. Interesting: Mark Twain published this bad boy.
6. Candy. They're sort of the great white whale of power pop for me. I don't know why I haven't just bought this. Maybe today I will.
7. Monte Walsh. The book not the movie, though I have an inexplicable fondness for Tom Sellect that has nothing to do with his moustache, and certainly not his love of the firearm.
8. East Boston Pizza. Pizza, pizza. Now I'm really hungry. Is it okay to serve pizza at a wedding? Probably not. Also, that was just a joke.
1. Finnegan's Wake. Loved Dubliners, on or about the thirty-five yard line with Ulysses (scarred by Jesus manque 9th grade English teacher's fanaticism). I think maybe we were supposed to read Finnegan's for a Modern British & Irish fiction class I took in college, but I sure didn't.
2. McCabe and Mrs. Miller. The little description is enough: 'haunting, wintry Western.' Altman at the peak of his powers, I am told.
3. Duke Ellington. I mean, heard everything here and there, by osmosis I suppose. But haven't yet given him a concerted essay. Reading this biography now which, despite Nat Hentoff's nice jacket quote, actually kind of sucks so far--feels like piffle.
4. Arcade Fire. I like Canadians, I love Montreal, I think it's neat when couples form bands, a couple of friends have told me I'd really love them. I guess we'll see.
5. Ulysses S. Grant's Ripper of a Yarn. Interesting: Mark Twain published this bad boy.
6. Candy. They're sort of the great white whale of power pop for me. I don't know why I haven't just bought this. Maybe today I will.
7. Monte Walsh. The book not the movie, though I have an inexplicable fondness for Tom Sellect that has nothing to do with his moustache, and certainly not his love of the firearm.
8. East Boston Pizza. Pizza, pizza. Now I'm really hungry. Is it okay to serve pizza at a wedding? Probably not. Also, that was just a joke.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Saturday's New Tradition
Every Saturday, an assignment.
This week's: use our comment section below to talk to us about Simon & Garfunkel. Love them? Talk about it.
Let's go.
(Next week: Donna Martin: boobulous or breasticle?)
This week's: use our comment section below to talk to us about Simon & Garfunkel. Love them? Talk about it.
Let's go.
(Next week: Donna Martin: boobulous or breasticle?)
Better L8 than Never
Alright alright alright:
1. Happy Birthday to Ian: A quick little happy early birthday to my nephew-to-be, Ian: at age 3, already a threat to cats, bowls of oatmeal, and naptimes the world around.
2. the 80-page an evening regimen: Why not give yourself a little homework assigment? Got me through this baby in short order. Bully. (The careful clicker will note this one on the sidebar. 'Amorous assignations,' indeed.
3. William Sonoma Mayo Clinic Mellstrom Stuffed Green Peppers: my delicious dinner last evening and this evening. Ground turkey and wheat bulghur. Oh HELL yeah.
4. Oden vs. Durant: I could get into this one, via Bill Simmons' blog. I'd be like 75% fine with him if he'd just stick to basketball, the only sport he knows well--very well, at that. Or does he just sound like he's got his shit together to me b/c my basketball acumen is, how you say, a very loose stool?
5. Harpoon Winter Warmer. Come on, it tastes like pumpkins, plus it's pretty filling. A great sipping beer.
6. The Serious American Thespian Liev Schreiber. Hooked into a few recent episodes of CSI. This guy does more with a little eyebrow twitch than the entire NBC network does with a mouthful of scenery. Plus he looks like a dog.
7. Alien Man vs. Bird Flu: from the website (ital. mine): "Author Steve Quayle addressed various topics including the recent spate of bird deaths in the US and Australia and the strange smell in New York. He also touched on end times, fallen angels & giants...(he) cited an email he received from a person in a Chicago suburb who described witnessing a white flash over a power line and then suddenly saw around 500 birds drop dead."
8. Decency. Sometimes it's okay to not have a fully-formed witticism (yawn) at the ready within 2 or 3 minutes of someone dying. I know she was dumb, blonde, had fake cans, and got way more ink than any of us: mortal sins in today's vortex, all of them. I know this is a little schoolmarmy, but fuck it, I have the floor...sometimes it's okay to just say, wow, that's fucked up, and leave it at that.
1. Happy Birthday to Ian: A quick little happy early birthday to my nephew-to-be, Ian: at age 3, already a threat to cats, bowls of oatmeal, and naptimes the world around.
2. the 80-page an evening regimen: Why not give yourself a little homework assigment? Got me through this baby in short order. Bully. (The careful clicker will note this one on the sidebar. 'Amorous assignations,' indeed.
3. William Sonoma Mayo Clinic Mellstrom Stuffed Green Peppers: my delicious dinner last evening and this evening. Ground turkey and wheat bulghur. Oh HELL yeah.
4. Oden vs. Durant: I could get into this one, via Bill Simmons' blog. I'd be like 75% fine with him if he'd just stick to basketball, the only sport he knows well--very well, at that. Or does he just sound like he's got his shit together to me b/c my basketball acumen is, how you say, a very loose stool?
5. Harpoon Winter Warmer. Come on, it tastes like pumpkins, plus it's pretty filling. A great sipping beer.
6. The Serious American Thespian Liev Schreiber. Hooked into a few recent episodes of CSI. This guy does more with a little eyebrow twitch than the entire NBC network does with a mouthful of scenery. Plus he looks like a dog.
7. Alien Man vs. Bird Flu: from the website (ital. mine): "Author Steve Quayle addressed various topics including the recent spate of bird deaths in the US and Australia and the strange smell in New York. He also touched on end times, fallen angels & giants...(he) cited an email he received from a person in a Chicago suburb who described witnessing a white flash over a power line and then suddenly saw around 500 birds drop dead."
8. Decency. Sometimes it's okay to not have a fully-formed witticism (yawn) at the ready within 2 or 3 minutes of someone dying. I know she was dumb, blonde, had fake cans, and got way more ink than any of us: mortal sins in today's vortex, all of them. I know this is a little schoolmarmy, but fuck it, I have the floor...sometimes it's okay to just say, wow, that's fucked up, and leave it at that.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Ladies and Gentlemen Your Attention Please
Very pleased to announce our plans for the East Coast release of Disciple & Punish/Muff (Heavy Fuzz Records) on April 1. 26 hot tracks of heavy fuzz music. To the left.
We'll be playing Boston and NYC record release gigs at the end of March with special touring member The Milkman. Dates and venues TBA.
Look for a West Coast tour and CD release in July. In the meantime you're welcome to content yourselves over here. Don't sleep on The Bunco Men, neither. Gigs to the right.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Ate is Enough
8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 things I'm done with:
1. "The terrorists have won" Not funny, stopped being funny like 4 years ago, not even funny if it's a funny at some unfunny's expense.
2. mea culpa in re: justina. "Unless, of course, it’s with the ladies. Sexy ladies. Sexy ladies he can talk to at the clubs. Sexy ladies he’d prefer not to talk to at all. The new Justin’s got needs, ya’ll." Wow. Really, really retarded. Hey lady, it's okay to like things that suck. We all do. But quit it with the apologies that aren't apologies but are kind of apologies for being so very touched by it all.
3. dry, cracking feet. My feet are a frigging disaster area, though less so now than a couple of days ago.
4. Seinfeld reruns. I think I'm close to saturation point here. I know there are episodes I haven't seen: why won't they ever air those?
5. February. What a nothing-happening, shiftless month this is. Except for my man the King's birthday later on.
6. Those Mac commercials. Can we nuclear bomb absolutely everyone involved in the conception, production, and celebration of this ad campaign? Seriously? It's not a fucking lifestyle choice, it's just a fucking computer. If I am missing something, I guess I just don't want to know.
7. Restless sleep. I would very much like to fall into a dreamless, uninterrupted sleep at some point soon. Just one night would be fine.
8. Me. I'd rather think of eight things I like. Next time I will.
1. "The terrorists have won" Not funny, stopped being funny like 4 years ago, not even funny if it's a funny at some unfunny's expense.
2. mea culpa in re: justina. "Unless, of course, it’s with the ladies. Sexy ladies. Sexy ladies he can talk to at the clubs. Sexy ladies he’d prefer not to talk to at all. The new Justin’s got needs, ya’ll." Wow. Really, really retarded. Hey lady, it's okay to like things that suck. We all do. But quit it with the apologies that aren't apologies but are kind of apologies for being so very touched by it all.
3. dry, cracking feet. My feet are a frigging disaster area, though less so now than a couple of days ago.
4. Seinfeld reruns. I think I'm close to saturation point here. I know there are episodes I haven't seen: why won't they ever air those?
5. February. What a nothing-happening, shiftless month this is. Except for my man the King's birthday later on.
6. Those Mac commercials. Can we nuclear bomb absolutely everyone involved in the conception, production, and celebration of this ad campaign? Seriously? It's not a fucking lifestyle choice, it's just a fucking computer. If I am missing something, I guess I just don't want to know.
7. Restless sleep. I would very much like to fall into a dreamless, uninterrupted sleep at some point soon. Just one night would be fine.
8. Me. I'd rather think of eight things I like. Next time I will.
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